


your time will come, if you wait for it

by desdemona (LydiaOfNarnia)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Ice, tsukishima is a high sodium saltine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9282083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/desdemona
Summary: Kageyama has a hard time believing his teammates care for him. In their own little ways, his teammates prove him wrong.





	

It’s easy to tell himself that he isn’t lonely; but sometimes he looks at the rest of the team and can’t escape the feeling of peering through a window, on the outside looking in.

It’s not as if he wants to have people fawning over him. He could live without the aggressive encouragement of Tanaka and Nishinoya, Hinata’s fawning, and even Sugawara’s more physical praise. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be close to his team. Sometimes – when watching the others outside of Ukai’s shop, shouting and being rowdy in the way teenage boys can be so easily – he longs to be a part of it too. 

The problem lies in the fact that he doesn’t know how to include himself. He isn’t confident in his abilities to join in their easy rapport without coming off as an idiot. (He knows the sting of rejection; he’s felt it’s lash against his skin, and never wants to know it again.)

This is the way he feels around all of his teammates, except for Hinata.

Hinata – his teammate, his rival, the closest thing he has to a friend. Hinata – who integrates himself so seamlessly, effortlessly, and drags Kageyama in his wake.

It’s easy to be himself around Hinata. He doesn’t have to constantly worry about doing something wrong, being too pushy or aggressive – because, well, Hinata is an idiot, but he’s also incredibly durable. Nothing seems to get Hinata down for long. When Kageyama snaps at him, he snaps back, but tension never lingers from their frequent arguments.

At the end of the day, Hinata is still his teammate.

It’s so easy to be around Hinata, because Kageyama doesn’t have to think about the fears that linger around the rest of his teammates. Even Sugawara, with his warmth, or Nishinoya, with his intense charisma, can’t make him feel totally at ease. He remembers blue-clad backs turning from him, a doomed ball hitting the court where there should have been a teammate to receive it – and his insides curdle. After that, it’s hard to convince himself he even  _wants_ friends.

Then he sees his teammates, laughing and playing with each other, and there is a yearning in his chest so desperate that it terrifies him.

* * *

“Kageyama?”

As soon as he hears that voice – a familiar voice, one that hits him like a punch to the gut – he feels a renewed urge to run. His teammates are the last people he wants to discover him like this.

Of all people, he supposes Ennoshita isn’t the worst who could stumble across him. Ennoshita is quiet, unassuming. He doesn’t talk a lot, and when he does he always seems to have something to say. Kageyama likes Ennoshita a lot, which makes the shame burning him now all the more intense.

“I’m fine,” he says automatically, scrambling to pull himself to his feet. Torn papers flutter around him, some sliding to the bottom of the staircase, and he bites his lip to keep his frustration at bay. Ennoshita moves automatically, bending down and catching up a handful of torn papers.

“Those are nothing,” Kageyama hastens to say, as Ennoshita’s dark eyes eyes rove over the papers. “It was – nothing. Thank you, Ennoshita-senpai.”

Despite Kageyama trying to pry the papers from his grasp, Ennoshita doesn’t give. He’s frowning when he looks up, and Kageyama feels his face burning.

“Who tore up your study guide?”

“No one.” Kageyama can’t meet his upperclassman’s eyes. Ennoshita has a gaze that seems to take in everything at once, a whole puzzle piecing together in his mind in a second, and it is unnerving. “It’s nothing. It was an accident, it was torn up by mistake –”

“So you admit someone tore it up.”

“What?” Kageyama blinks, startled, as his nails dig into his palms. “I – they took it from me, but they didn’t mean to tear it –”

“Kageyama, it’s in shreds.”

“They were teasing me about my grades, that’s all. Those kids don’t like me anyway –”

“Someone tore up your study guide to bully you?”

“I –” Kageyama’s voice dies in his throat. Looking at Ennoshita, he can see that the game is up. “No. Yes,” he amends sullenly, at once feeling weak for not being able to take care of himself. How pathetic must he seem right now?

It’s not like he _needs_ good grades to be able to play volleyball. All he needs is passable grades, which is something he can actually manage. Anything more than that… well, he’s never been good in school. That, along with his standoffish nature and inability to form real connections with people, can invoke the ire of cruel peers. He’s used to it. Most people don’t bother messing with him ever since his last growth spurt, but some still do.

He just really, really needed that study guide to pass his exams. Now it’s gone, and Ennoshita is staring at him with pity.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, drawing himself to his full height (taller than Ennoshita) and stepping back. “I’ll be fine.”

He figured that Ennoshita wouldn’t press it, and would just let Kageyama walk away. It didn’t have anything to _do_ with him, so why shouldn’t he? He was startled by a voice calling out just as he began to turn away.

“You forgot your papers.”

“Right.” Kageyama spun on his heel again, lifted the stack of papers from Ennoshita’s grip, and gave a short bow. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t we talk to Takeda-sensei?” suggests Ennoshita at once. Kageyama’s eyes widen at the implication, and he is about to protest when Ennoshita makes things clearer. “He’s part of the literature department. He can get you a new study guide.”

Though he knows he shouldn’t, Kageyama’s interest in piqued. “He – he can?”

“Sure. We can tell him there was an accident with yours – it wouldn’t be the first time a student ruined a study guide by accident!”

“But I couldn’t –” Kageyama starts, but Ennoshita carries on as if he didn’t hear him.

“And you know, I’m having a study group at my house tonight. It will just be me, Narita, and Tanaka this time, but Nishinoya might show up later. You should come. My mom might fuss over us, but she makes snacks too, so it’s okay.”

The invitation is so unexpected – _unprompted_ – that Kageyama feels knocked off his feet. For a moment all he can do is stare, struggling to process the fact that he’s actually been invited to his teammate’s house. It wouldn’t be the first time Ennoshita helped him study, sure, but they’ve always done it at school. Going to someone else’s house…

Well, Kageyama hasn’t done that in a while.

“I-i-if you’re sure,” he stammers, feeling a bit breathless. Ennoshita grins.

“Great! See you at practice, then!”

Kageyama nods, knowing that they both have to get back to their classes – they have the rest of the school day, then practice, then he’s actually going to Ennoshita’s house.

He doesn’t know what this means; a part of him is afraid to wonder what it could mean. All he knows is that he feels warm for some reason, and he has no clue why.

(He has a quiz the next day. He surprises everyone – not in the least himself – when he winds up getting a 91.)

* * *

It’s not that he hates winter. He just… doesn’t like it much.

He doesn’t like the snow; it’s too hard to shovel, it hurts to touch without gloves, and it turns a slushy tar color after sitting on the ground for too long. He doesn’t like the darkness; it makes him feels sleepy early, filling up his house whenever he returns to find it empty. He doesn’t like the cold; it creeps into his bedroom at night, and makes tearing himself from the blankets agony. He doesn’t like ice.

He really, really hates ice.

He bites his lip, but that pain is not enough to distract from the stinging of his back, and the harsh scrapes that now line his hands. He should have been looking where he was going. He ought to have noticed how the sidewalk glistened. Instead, he’d wiped out like an idiot, and now his backpack is scattered all over the sidewalk.

He’s so busy trying to scramble to his feet – falling down three more times in the process – that he doesn’t realize he’s not alone. When a voice calls out to him, he’s sent flopping back onto the ground again.

“Oh my god,” mutters a second person between choked snorts. “He looks like a dying fish.”

“Suga!”

“Are you okay?” comes the voice who had called out to him the first time. Now, it is much closer to his ear. Kageyama turns his head in trepidation to find all four of the volleyball team’s third years regarding him in varying states of amusement and concern. Sugawara is giggling behind his hand. Shimizu looks like she’s fighting off a smile. Sawamura just looks worried. Azumane, standing near Kageyama on the edge of the ice slick, is holding out a hand to him with a quietly concerned expression.

“I’m fine,” Kageyama says, not taking the hand offered to him. He tries to get up, and falls again. His butt stings more with each impact.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Sugawara says, seeming to have regained his composure. Despite his efforts to be stern, there’s still mirth in his eyes. “Let us help.”

“I can do this.”

“I don’t think you can.”

“I can do this.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can do this.” Kageyama declares this once more, before his knee flies out from under him and he bellyflops onto the ground.

Azumane makes a noise of sympathetic pain, while another violent snort sends Sugawara burying his face in his hands. Kageyama grits his teeth. He knows his face is probably burning, and he’s making a total idiot of himself in front of his upperclassman.

He _hates_ ice.

He’s surprised by the sight of his notebooks being collected off the ground, gathered quickly by a sure hand. When he looks up, Shimizu is slipping all of the stray contents back into his backpack. (He hadn’t even realized that had flown off during the fall.) She catches his eye and nods at him. With ice freezing the legs of his pants, he dazedly returns the gesture.

Before he can try anything else, two strong hands are suddenly seizing him under each one, hauling him up. He isn’t just raised to his feet; he’s dragged clear off of the ice slick, onto the safety of the sidewalk. Azumane and Sawamura step back, looking satisfied with themselves, while Sugawara has finally stopped giggling in order to breathe.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he chirps, taking the backpack from Shimizu and handing it to Kageyama, “was it? Just watch your step from now on, and you should be fine.”

Kageyama’s face is definitely on fire now, but he nods anyway. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem. See you in practice, Kageyama!”

Throwing one last wave over his shoulder, Sugawara and the rest of the third years continue on to their class. Kageyama, adjusting his bag on his shoulder, takes a deep breath. He draws himself up to his full pride, trying to scrounge up any semblance of pride, and starts walking as well.

(No one mentions the Ice Incident later on, and Kageyama is too grateful to be surprised.)

* * *

“Kageyama, why are you lurking by the vending machines like a creep? Don’t you have lunch?”

He doesn’t have to look behind him to know that it’s Hinata talking – because after the past few days, it couldn’t be _anyone_ else. He’s so tired of people finding him in these unfortunate situations, and he’s tired of he way he is left feeling afterwards. The last thing he wants is for Hinata – who leaves him feeling strange on a regular period – to throw him even more off-kilter. Sugawara’s smile and Ennoshita’s casual kindness have done more than enough.

“I’m fine,” he retorts, baring his teeth. “Go away. Are you haunting me?”

“You said we’d eat lunch today to go over new plays, but you weren’t even in your classroom! You totally bailed!” Hinata draws himself up to his full (pathetic) height, and glowers down at Kageyama, “And you promised!”

Kageyama vaguely remembers telling Hinata they would eat lunch together sometime early that morning (his brain naturally classifies anything that happens before 9AM as a dream, and remembers it as well). Of course, that was before circumstances changed. That was back when Kageyama still had lunch, or thought he did. That assumption has been proved very wrong. Kageyama doesn’t have anything the eat – all he has is the money in his pocket to buy milk from the vending machine. Without anything to eat, he hadn’t seen any point in sticking around. The promise to Hinata completely slipped his mind.

“I’m busy,” is all he says, despite clearly being anything but. “Go away.”

Hinata bares his teeth and _hisses_ in his best impression of a furious cat. “What does that mean?”

“It means go away. Leave! Are you deaf?”

Hinata is no longer intimidated by Kageyama’s temper, and sometimes he regrets the day the kid grew a backbone. “No way!” he shoots back, incensed. “You promised, so we’re going to go over plays, no matter how busy you _aren’t!”_

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Well, you’re not doing anything!”

This exclamation rings in the air, and suddenly Hinata’s face goes blank. Thrown off guard, Kageyama mimics the flat expression. He watches as Hinata’s head inclined to the side, baffled.

“Kageyama,” he says, “where’s your lunch? Why aren’t you eating?”

There’s the question Kageyama hadn’t wanted to be asked. He swallows, squaring his shoulders, and heaves a deep sigh. “Um.”

“Um,” Hinata echoes flatly. “You forgot it, didn’t you?”

“No!” Kageyama shoots back automatically, furious, before realizing that Hinata hit the nail on the head. “Yes. Maybe. Yes.”

“Ohhh.” Hinata nods, as if this explains anything, before turning to the vending machines. “Got any money?”

Kageyama holds up his milk. “I did.”

Hinata lets out an affronted squawk, as if the idea of spending your only lunch money on milk is unbelievable to him. Kageyama frowns, squaring his shoulders, as Hinata jumps closer.

“Fine,” he says, planting his hands on his hips. He faces down the vending machines like a video game protagonist about to tackle the boss. “We’ll have to do this ourselves!”

Breaking into a vending machine is harder than it looks.

After ten minutes of going at it with everything they’ve got, Kageyama’s body aches. Hinata has a red mark in the middle of his forehead from headbutting it. They have made no progress.

“Oh my god,” says a voice from behind them, followed by snickering.

Kageyama freezes. He hadn’t anticipated gathering an audience. For the first time, it occurs to him that the vice principal might not look kindly on their efforts to get Kageyama a lunch.

“Do I even _want_ to ask?”

That’s a voice he knows all too well. Kageyama’s face shifts into a grimace; as they spin slowly around, he sees that Hinata mirrors the expression. Kageyama is relieved to find that they’ve only won an audience of two; unfortunately, they’re two of the last people he feels like putting up with today.

“Did the vending machine insult you,” drawls Tsukishima, arms crossed over his chest, “or did you accidentally feed it your brains and it won’t give them back?”

Yamaguchi giggles into his hand. Neither of the duo seem perturbed by the glares being sent their way, but they rarely are. Kageyama grits his teeth, hoping that if he’s just silent the two jerks will go away. If there’s anyone on the team he feels confident in saying dislikes him, it’s Tsukishima.

“Quit laughing, Jerkishima!” Hinata shoots back, once again drawing to his full height. It’s really not impressive, but Kageyama doubts he’ll ever figure that out. “Kageyama doesn’t have a lunch, and we’re trying to get him one.”

“I have an extra sandwich!” Yamaguchi volunteers immediately. “You can have it if you want.”

“Really?” Hinata lights up, bouncing over to Yamaguchi. It’s almost funny how quickly the hostility fades from his face. Tsukishima’s aura, however, only darkens.

“No.”

“‘No’ what, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi questions, shooting him a baffled look. Tsukishima is already turning and walking in the opposite direction.

“They’re not eating lunch with us.”

Kageyama feels something in his stomach curdle. It’s a common response to Tsukishima, and as his temper boils up he can’t restrain his own shout. “Who the hell would want to eat lunch with you!”

“You can eat lunch with us if you want,” says Yamaguchi. Hinata breaks into a grin.

“Sounds good! Did you bring mochi again?”

“I got some from the vending machine!”

“Give me some, please? Please?”

“Did your mom give you homemade cookies again? One of them for one of mine.”

“Deal!”

Yamaguchi and Hinata high five, leaving Kageyama to gape at them in shock. Tsukishima, having paused in his step, looks similarly as if he wishes a black hole would open up in the floor and devour him. As their two best friends seal their lunch plans without consent, Kageyama and Tsukishima lock eyes for a split second before jerking back as if electrocuted.

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima says again, pleading. Yamaguchi’s grin widens.

“Wanna eat in the courtyard?”

“Yeah! C’mon, Kageyama!”

“This way, Tsukki.”

Kageyama is smart enough to realize when he’s been outmaneuvered. He’ll admit, grudgingly, that Tsukishima is as well. Grudgingly, the boy’s trail after their friend’s towards the courtyard.

(Kageyama’s lunch winds up being: a milk box from the vending machine, one of Hinata’s mother’s chocolate chip cookies, a peanut butter sandwich, and two grapes. Tsukishima contributed the grapes, at the insistence of everyone else. Kageyama even found the dignity to thank him.)

* * *

It’s funny, he thinks later on, how hard it is to isolate yourself.

For so long, he had been convinced that there was no place for him amongst his teammates. On the team, sure, but as an actual member of the team – he had convinced himself that he couldn’t be accepted. His teammates would turn against him eventually, the same was his past team had. It was an inevitability.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be this way. Maybe it isn’t this way, he considers as he surveys the team around him. The third years, with their encouragement and warmth; the second years, endlessly determined and supportive; the first years, never slowing down for a second. Kageyama looks around at the team – his team – and feels he could be a part of them.

He’s wanted it for longer than he can say. Maybe he doesn’t have to want it anymore. Maybe it’s his to have.

They’ve all gone out of their way to include him at every chance, and they don’t _need_ to. Still, they do, and to Kageyama that says so much.

“Hey, Kageyama! Heads up!”

He’s jolted out of his reverie by a hand landing hard on his back. Hinata spins in front of him, grinning and gleaming. “What are you doing? Wake up, it’s time to do our runs!”

His team is waiting for him. They’re all waiting; they won’t go without him. They won’t leave him behind.

Kageyama swallows hard, squares his shoulders, and jogs towards the rest of the team.


End file.
